


Curious

by AphroditesLaw



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Canon Compliant, F/F, Grief/Mourning, Judge!Lexa, Post-Canon Fix-It, Smut, Who tf knows, catching feels of course, god!lexa, mentions of Lexa's death
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-02
Updated: 2020-10-02
Packaged: 2021-03-07 16:21:33
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,949
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26760550
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AphroditesLaw/pseuds/AphroditesLaw
Summary: "You will never be her," Clarke snarls. "You can wear her face and you can speak in her voice, but you will never, ever come close. So don't you dare try, do you hear me?" And with Lexa's nod, Clarke cups the back of her neck and kisses her roughly.
Relationships: Clarke Griffin & Lexa, Clarke Griffin/Lexa
Comments: 104
Kudos: 1177





	Curious

**Author's Note:**

> I don't even know what this is, except trying to make sense of things with a cracky premise. Definitely playing with the idea a part of Lexa was in that judge. Please don't take this too seriously. Anyway, Lexa will always deserve better.

When They take on a new shape, a new reflection, it is usually quite easy to understand who They must be. For Clarke, it is Lexa, and Lexa was never only one thing. She was both teacher and lover. In Clarke's world, Lexa already spanned galaxies.

It's unclear how Clarke continues to summon Them, sometimes even while she slumbers, but the pull is far too great to ignore. The first time she did it unconsciously, it was a surprise to find Themselves on Earth again. Oh, Clarke's friends were made aware of Their existence, but the information was quickly brushed away when came the time to plan their next supper. Not even Raven, with her infinite curiosity, has tried it.

As such, They are only ever Lexa now. Teacher. Lover. Clarke's. Lexa is an interesting manifestation to be. She was born and built for war. Her clothes and her mask - warpaint, Clarke corrected once - show it. Her body and mind are nimble. Her voice is steady and strong. Lexa was born to command. And yet with Clarke, Lexa yields.

It is a curious, curious thing.

-

At first, Clarke is the one to ask questions. She asks about Madi the most as they stroll along the river, Clarke needing a break from the camp from time to time. There is neither reason nor justification for Lexa's presence, and yet she appears when summoned, something inside her compelling her to do so each time.

She reasons that learning about the last of the human race could lead to interesting knowledge. Eventually, she must admit that conversing with Clarke is rather pleasant. Her mind is intricate and she does not hold her tongue.

"Is it not like the City of Light then?"

Clarke has been telling her about this City, and Lexa's memories show her inside it, fighting by her side. Even if it looks real, she knows it is nothing like transcendence.

"This City of yours was created with such impossible restrictions - and only with humans benefiting from it. It seems to me that the body and the mind had to be separated. Transcendence, on the contrary, elevates both body and mind."

"So you have your own body somewhere?" asks Clarke.

Lexa folds her hands in front of her. "Not in the way you think, or any way you might understand."

Clarke knows not to take offense. She can't imagine transcendence. Even her friends, who've lived through it and chosen to give it up, find it harder to explain it these days.

-

Lexa starts to ask the questions eventually. Tonight Clarke has shied away from a camping trip her friends have gone on. She made the excuse that she was exhausted from a day of gathering wood before the wet season ahead, but truthfully sometimes she needs to be alone.

Well, at least have a different kind of company. She sits instead with Lexa, who watches her keep their small fire alive.

"Curious," says Lexa.

Clarke sighs as she sits back on her smooth rock.

"Will you stop saying that?"

"Interesting, then. The warmth is so different from the one I usually feel."

"Not as nice?" asks Clarke.

Lexa ponders this before shaking her head. "Different," she repeats.

She catches Clarke gazing at her and holds her stare for a moment.

"I'm not her, Clarke." She says it because Clarke often forgets - or at least pretends to forget. She can read her disappointment in the way Clarke's bottom lip trembles before she cracks a smile. She hides her feelings well, and that is precisely why it is important to remind her.

"I know," Clarke says. "Now will you pass me that other log?"

Lexa takes the log by her foot and offers it. She cannot ignore the way Clarke brushes her fingers over hers, slow and purposeful before she takes the log.

"Thanks."

-

Clarke's hair is longer the next time she summons her. She smiles more and she doesn't dwell on transcendence anymore. She knows her daughter is at peace and the rest, perhaps, does not matter quite as much. She seems lighter to Lexa, though it can be difficult to tell.

They often walk in the forest side by side, discussing the nothings and everythings this world is made of. Lexa soon understands that this… companionship of sorts is a refuge to Clarke. She loves her friends, but this is for her own peace of mind.

"Madi and I lived here alone for years," Clarke says at one point, "but sometimes I feel like I'm still on another planet. It's changed so much. Grown so much."

"Time changes everything."

"No, not everything," Clarke argues, and then more quietly: "Not us."

"I am not-"

"Her. I know."

Clarke stops and then turns around. She walks so purposefully toward her that Lexa must step back. Her hands reach for the mossy, fallen tree trunk behind her. It's raised above the ground and she is soon backed up against it - stuck. Hm. Clarke glances between them, and at Lexa's hands, and then smiles fondly.

"This is familiar."

Lexa knows why she says this. Clarke cornered her once - her Lexa, that is - and made her will known quite powerfully.

"You keep saying you're not her, and you're right," Clarke tells her. Lexa is not sure why she speaks so quietly, as only the birds and the insects surround them. Her friends are at their camp, and there is not another soul on this planet anymore. "You could never be her. Lexa was complicated in ways even you couldn't grasp. Lexa was the most powerful woman in our world and it only made her just, and compassionate, and honest. Sometimes her integrity was painful. Her loyalty to duty broke my heart, once. But you've taken on her face. You have our memories - I can see it in your eyes. So sometimes I'll pretend you are her. Not because I'm pathetically sad, but because I have lost _so much_ and I am sick of acting tough. And I need - I need to give myself a goddamn break. So if I smile at you sometimes, and I flirt with you, will you please just shut up and let me?"

A long moment must pass before Lexa feels the need to clear her throat, if only to make the resounding silence less obvious. Certainly, she can give Clarke some measure of pretend if it will make the rest of her life here a more enjoyable one. Lexa does not see why the last of this species should be condemned to something unpleasant. They are quite interesting, yes. Examining them further may prove to be valuable. 

"I can do that," she offers. And then, she smiles, pulling at an old memory: "Ambassador."

Clarke staggers back. Her mouth parts open and she shakes her head, eyes watery. " _No_. Not like that. I'm in charge."

Lexa's smile falls. She has gone too far. "I apologize."

With a curt nod, Clarke turns around and starts walking again. Lexa looks down at her hand and realizes her tight grip has caused the bark to break off.

-

Not too long after, she is summoned while Clarke bathes.

It is… unnerving.

Summoned is putting it mildly. Clarke shouts at the skies and yells expletives until she bends and shows.

"What is it?" Lexa asks as she stands on the bank of the river.

Clarke turns to her and flashes a grin. The water is up to her neck and her hair is wet.

"You see any clothes around? Picasso grabbed my bag and ran away with it. I'm stuck."

Lexa blinks several times. "You… summoned me to find your clothes."

" _Indeed,_ " Clarke imitates her in that particular tone of hers.

"There is _no one_ here, Clarke," Lexa tells her, tongue clicking on the k of her name. "You are the last of the human race. And _you_... are not shy."

Clarke shrugs. "That's swell, but Hope and Jordan are on a date somewhere around here picking berries and I'd rather not walk around naked… At least this time. So, could you look around?"

Lexa pinches the bridge of her nose before turning around and venturing into the forest. She grumbles to herself as she does so, eyes scanning the forest floor. She finds Picasso's prints soon enough, and then Clarke's bag of clothes by a bush. It is dirty and there is drool on it, but Lexa picks it up regardless.

She walks back to the lake and shows Clarke the bag. Before she can turn around, Clarke shoots her a smile and starts to walk out of the water. The closer she gets, the lower the water.

And she is naked.

And quite confident about it, too.

And Lexa drops the bag.

She cannot even think to turn when Clarke reaches her and bends down for the bag, never once looking away from her.

"What is it, Lexa?" She asks, her voice husky.

It does strange things to Lexa's body. She swallows thickly.

"I… Was that all you wanted, Clarke?"

Clarke takes out her bra from the bag and walks past her to the clearing, brushing her arm against her shoulder as she does so. "I caught some fish and I have mushrooms too. Let's start a fire."

-

Lexa greatly enjoys the taste of mushrooms, though fish is not quite her favorite. She has favorite foods now and it is an unusual thing for her to have, but her palate is not truly hers so there is nothing she can do about it. She reasons that eating with Clarke is an experience in itself - something to share after she leaves again. Oh yes, the other beings who have transcended quite know what one of their judges gets up to, at least the things she shares, and it amuses them greatly.

Sitting against a tree by the fire, Lexa now watches as Clarke sinks her teeth into a juicy apple, licking her lips and making crunching sounds as she eats. Clarke has never apologized for who she is - at least not after the test, and certainly not to her.

Clarke catches her staring and smirks. "Are you sure you don't want to try it?"

"I am quite certain, Clarke."

Lexa's eyes trail down to Clarke's pretty mouth again. It is slightly parted and she catches a glimpse of her tongue. Her body warms and she shivers at the unfamiliar feelings. Her eyes widen and Clarke's smile changes. 

"I am having strange thoughts," Lexa admits quite quickly.

"What kind of thoughts?" asks Clarke as she puts the rest of the apple in her bag.

Lexa tries to make sense of them. "Carnal. Sensual. I have taken on so many manifestations, and been so many different judges to so many different species… But this body… She reacts so strongly to you."

It has hit her before this. How she falls into step when Clarke walks by her side. When a breeze comes their way and blows through Clarke's hair, she finds herself inhaling deeply. She knows Clarke's scent - and intimately. She knows the taste of her, too. This body knows Clarke, and Clarke knows this body. There is no ignoring it.

And Lexa does not know what to do with such information. _They_ are not Lexa. They are no one and everyone - nothing and everything. So why do They yearn so deeply to truly be who Clarke wishes for the most?

Her last words must've hit a nerve, as Clarke looks forlorn now.

"Lexa loved me," she whispers. "Love is expressed in different ways. You can't understand."

"I understand love, Clarke. I feel it always. Infinite, pure love that stretches through my entire being."

Clarke shakes her head. "No. You can't understand because Lexa didn't love me like that. Our love had so much standing between it. So much we both needed to put first. It wasn't pure - it was born during a war and it suffered through another one. Our love wasn't enough to end anything. But it was ours. It was untouchable. She knew my soul and I knew hers. She saw every ugly part of me and I saw every ugly part of her, only to love her _more_ for them. It was our only selfish thing. Not selfish because we would have abandoned our morals or our people for it - never like that - but because, when we were together, we could pretend for a little while. We could pretend we were just two girls in love in a quiet world. It was _ours_ \- so you can't understand. No one can."

The fire cracks and a moth passes by, but it is gone in the blink of an eye.

"I do not know that kind of love," Lexa concedes. "I wish you could have had your quiet world with her, Clarke."

It must be a surprise to Clarke that she says that. She frowns. "You wish good things for me now? I thought I had to suffer the consequences of my sins."

"And I am sorry for that, but I do not wish you any harm. You will not transcend - to me, that is consequence enough. When your friends chose to come back, I found it curi-" she catches herself and Clarke smiles briefly. "I found it interesting. I was glad for you. And certainly pleased to find there are still so many new things to learn."

"Please, I'm tired of lessons. I've learned enough," Clarke says as she gets up, gathering her bag.

"I have not," Lexa firmly replies, getting up with her.

Clarke turns back around, confused at first. "So go find another species to question."

Lexa remains rooted in place, fingers twitching. "They cannot teach me as you can. As you want to."

"Want to?" Clarke frowns, and then stills, as if suddenly angry: "I told you not to do that. _I_ set the tone."

"Then why do you summon me, Clarke?"

" _Don't do that._ You've run out of questions."

"I am not doing anything but feeling, Clarke. And I feel… for you, a great amount. It is overwhelming in this body, on this planet. Perhaps because she lived here too, even if so long ago. Perhaps because she is still a part of it. A part of you. It is everywhere inside me and it… it doesn't hurt, but it burns."

Clarke steps forward. "Don't you dare…"

"I am not trying to upset you. I simply wish to… comprehend the depth of these feelings. Something is changing - something between my mind and her body. I - I don't understand it. I want to understand it - _her._ "

Irate, and with tears in her eyes, Clarke grips the lapels of Lexa's coat and pushes her against the tree. She looks so enraged but it is no surprise to Lexa. Even at peace, Clarke will cling to her pain for the rest of her life. It is a part of her, and perhaps even keeps her alive as much as the air in her lungs does.

"You will _never_ be her," Clarke snarls. "You can wear her face and you can speak in her voice, but you will never, ever come close. So don't you dare try, do you hear me?"

And with Lexa's nod, Clarke cups the back of her neck and kisses her roughly. Lexa closes her eyes and whimpers, a sound she does not remember ever making before. She falls into Clarke quickly, first by opening her mouth for her, and then by squeezing Clarke's waist. This body is Lexa's and it knows, oh it knows this feeling so well, and it has missed it.

There is nothing to do but yield to it. Clarke's tongue is soft against hers but her hands are anything but. She undoes her shoulder guard first and throws it aside, then works on the buttons of her coat. It is open and discarded in a matter of seconds.

She undoes Lexa's pants next, just enough to pull them down and slip her hand beneath fabric and between her legs. Lexa's eyes widen as Clarke parts her folds with a finger. She is warm and wet, a mystifying sensation she must chase after. It is so new but not strange - it is pleasurable in fact, immensely so.

"Oh," she exhales sharply, surprised when Clarke brushes against another sensitive part of her - of Lexa.

"Just-" Clarke uses her free hand to push her harder against the tree, her eyes on her face at all times. "Say my name, _please_."

Lexa clings to Clarke's waist and leans her forehead on her shoulder, her body feeling such a rush of warmth as Clarke works her fingers against her, and then-

" _Clarke_ ," she gasps, suddenly filled with two fingers. Her mouth remains open, agape with incredulity as desire surges through her body. Clarke was right before - she has not known love like this. Pleasure like this. It is so different from what she has felt since the dawn of time. And yet it feels so familiar. She knows this… she _knows_ this…

"Just like that," Clarke says so quietly she must not even realize it.

Lexa's face is pressed against her neck and as she moans her lips brush against Clarke's pulse. It makes her own heart beat wildly - pound so fast she can almost hear it between their heavy breathing. So this is how humans love, she thinks. This is why this species _feels_ so strongly. 

"Clarke, oh - _Clarke_ ," she repeats, lost to the sensation of this woman, this beautiful, stubborn, broken woman buried inside her. Giving and taking from her; pushing her higher and higher until even transcendence seems like a faint light in comparison. It is not, but in the moment it feels like this could be everything Lexa needs until the universe collapses for good. Other species will have to judge themselves as nothing can tear her apart from Clarke's arms.

"Come for me," Clarke pleads, her voice raspy and distant. "Come for me, baby. Let me feel you again. Please, God, please, I miss you. _I miss you._ "

Clarke pumps harder and faster inside her, and if the angle pains her wrist she doesn't show it all. Eyes shut tight, with pleasure mounting unbearably fast, Lexa sees flashes of Clarke in a bed of furs, her nude body waiting for her with her legs splayed out. She sees Lexa press kisses against her skin; first on her scars and then her breasts. They do not have much time but they will make the most of it. In that moment they will love each other so fiercely and so freely.

When she finally reaches the peak she has chased, Lexa cries out in surprise. The pleasure brings her such bliss, and such clarity, and it is so new, and so good, that her earlier thought springs to mind immediately. Surely, she cannot leave Clarke so soon after this. She cannot leave like this.

"That's right," Clarke murmurs, holding her tightly as she slows down her movements and then stops completely, pulling out of her. "You're alright."

Lexa pulls back and looks upon the face that has changed the meaning of so many things in so little time.

"You look at me like-" Clarke starts and then her eyes water again. "Do you even feel her at all?"

Lexa cannot lie, even if it would spare Clarke the pain. She does feel her. In fact, she has never felt Lexa more than she does now. She is humming everywhere inside her. She does not know what it means - Lexa did not transcend, and so surely they cannot be truly connected - but it is unmistakable.

"She misses you deeply," Lexa tells her as they breathe closely together. "And she hungers for you now."

Because Clarke allows it, Lexa presses on and kisses her again. She tastes her mouth and sighs into it, her legs still wobbly but not enough that they keep her from trying what she wishes to do. She holds Clarke's waist and then glances at the bed of moss near the tree, further away from the fire.

"I… I cannot take your pain, Clarke, but if you would let me-"

" _Yes_ ," Clarke exhales sharply. Of course she already knows.

She pulls Lexa toward the moss and lets go of her to take off her own jacket. When she reaches down for her top and pulls it off, Lexa swallows a moan. Not before long, Clarke has pulled down her pants and pushed Lexa down on the moss. She has taken off Lexa's clothes and straddled her hips, and she has guided Lexa's hands to cup her full breasts.

Lexa can do nothing but look up in awe. She did not know anything could still astonish her. With Clarke, it is now a regular occurrence. Lexa has been both teacher and lover to this woman, but tonight it is Lexa who learns how to love.

She sits up and takes a nipple in her mouth, her arm wrapped around Clarke's waist. Clarke does not protest, slowly grinding her hips against her. She tries to be quiet at first, but her gasps soon follow.

"Like that," she tells Lexa, one hand guiding the back of her head.

Lexa is only too eager to follow the order, her body aching to pleasure Clarke. She kisses, licks and sucks one breast and then the other, delighting in the way Clarke moves against her. Their bodies are so warm; so attuned to each other. Lexa has known connection in all its forms, but this one has eluded her.

She feels Clarke pull her closer and realizes what she means as Clarke lies down on her back and forces her to follow. Lexa finds herself atop her like she did in their memory.

Clarke cups her face and licks her bottom lip. "Please…" One leg falls open and Lexa glances down. Clarke takes her breath away. If she actually needed it for survival, breathing would be a difficult action indeed.

But Lexa knows very well what to do. She kisses her stomach and her bellybutton - a curious, sweet thing - before settling fully between her spread thighs. The smell stirs awake a deep part inside her. She cannot wait. Lexa licks broadly between Clarke's folds, finding her wet and hot.

Clarke cries out and reaches for her head, fingers curling in her hair. Lexa knows… and remembers. Yes, she does. She has done this before. Her body moves before she can even think to hesitate. She discovers Clarke slowly at first before licking inside her, tasting as much as she can.

Clarke grabs her own breast roughly, head thrown back as Lexa works her up steadily. Fingers soon join her tongue, teasing her most sensitive part and drawing out the filthiest sounds from Clarke's lips. It is all music to Lexa's ears. The universe may sing, but it is nothing compared to this.

Lexa feels Clarke's hand tighten in her hair and watches her arch her back, desperate for release. It is a sight Lexa knows she will retain forever, in this body and any other. Such beauty cannot be forgotten. Suddenly hungry for Clarke to fill her mouth, she penetrates her with two fingers and pumps quickly inside her. She does not stop until Clarke cries out loudly and her body contracts.

Clarke comes with a scratchy call of her name, her release hitting her hard and fast. Her eyes are still squeezed shut when Lexa pulls out of her and laps at her gently. When Clarke is too sensitive for her tongue she moves up and starts kissing her stomach again. With her hand still in her hair, Clarke tugs at her and Lexa takes it as her cue to fully come up. She watches her face intently, unsure what Clarke wants. _Her nose_ … she thinks to herself - or perhaps she hears it, and it was not her own thought at all.

Tenderly, if slightly unsure of the gesture, Lexa brushes her nose against Clarke's. She goes from one side to the other, and finishes with a soft kiss on Clarke's lips.

When Clarke opens her eyes, they are full of tears. "Don't make me believe she's in there."

Lexa quiets, remorseful. "I'm sorry," she whispers.

Clarke's laugh is watery. "You're still doing it."

Lexa sees herself in a room then - a room with a bed, but not her own. She sees herself rush into the room only to find Clarke with her back turned to her. And Clarke is at her throat not a second later, a knife pressed tight against her skin. Lexa whispers she is sorry, and she means it. She means it more than anything. Another memory, then. Another thing she shouldn't have said. It does not belong to her. 

"Perhaps I should go," Lexa suggests, sensing that Clarke is in pain. She cannot feel it herself, no, but she reads it plainly on her face.

Clarke narrows her eyes in that specific way of hers, upset and daring. "You want to learn about humanity? Here's a lesson: when you fuck the woman you love, you don't leave right after."

Lexa's mouth parts open very slowly. "I… I did not… I…"

"Really? The judge can't find her words now?"

"You are being unkind," says Lexa.

Clarke brushes a hand over her face. "I know. I'm sorry."

Lexa lies down next to her, right on the bed of moss, and exhales deeply. She watches Clarke grab her top and put it on, but she herself feels no need to dress her body for now. It's a long time before anyone says anything. Yet Lexa can tell Clarke wants to ask something. With their gazes both on the darkening sky, she can even guess what it is about.

"Ask me."

Clarke doesn't ask anything for an even longer time. But then, she starts:

"Do you know what happened to those who didn't transcend? To the billions of lives lost in the bombs, so long ago. To the lives lost after that in countless wars."

Lexa thinks back on the dawn of time and space. She shakes her head. "No. It is a mystery to me as well."

"How can that be? You know everything."

"I only know what I know, Clarke."

Clarke rolls her eyes. "How riveting. Do you at least have a guess?"

"I suppose perhaps…" Lexa pauses and then shakes her head. "No, I truly do not."

"You were going to say something."

"It is a difficult notion to put into words."

"Try me. I've got time."

Lexa smiles at that. "Transcendence is connection. We are one, yet our essence remains. We communicate like you do with your friends; joyfully and endlessly. We feel the warmth of laughter and bliss. There is not one place we bask in, and yet we do wander if we wish to." She frowns, thinking of death now. "Transcendence is not death, though I do not know what death truly is, so I cannot be certain. I think perhaps it is just another way of being we have no word for quite yet. I don't believe this universe was made for suffering, though it is the unfortunate truth that some species lost their way and passed on suffering to others. Death is final for the body, but what dies may live again, differently. Perhaps there is another plane of existence where the body is born again. You will find out one day, Clarke. I am at peace and so do not envy your position, but I would advise you remain open-minded. Death is not the end - Lexa believed it. Perhaps you can too."

Clarke does not look away from the stars, but Lexa notices that a few tears have marred her cheeks again. Clarke tries to wipe them away discretely with her sleeve, but it is futile.

"She said she would always be with you," murmurs Lexa, hoping to offer some solace with her words. "That is her truth. Her loyalty is to you now."

Clarke turns on her side to look at her. "Does she know how much I-" she stops herself and then tries again: "I was never able to tell her - the real her. Does she know?"

She cannot even bring herself to say the words, not when it is not truly Lexa hearing them.

Lexa chooses her own words carefully. "I will not speak for her, Clarke. What I know is as follows: _this body_ you have chosen for me knows. I feel it every time I am near you. I feel such ease and comfort around you. Sometimes I am uncertain and cautious, but still so utterly grateful to stand by you. I don't know if it is her doing or mine, but, surely… she must've known what you felt for her. And she knows it now too."

For the first time since the test, Clarke pulls her into her arms and clings to her tightly.

"Thank you," she whispers.

And what is Lexa to do but hold her even tighter?

-

Lexa finds it difficult to watch Clarke leave the following morning. Clarke lingers and kisses her once, but she does not look back when she walks away.

When she turns the corner on the way to find her friends, a great sadness seizes Lexa's body. She gasps, feeling as if she is being choked. She has not felt sadness since… No, she has never felt it at all. But as she focuses on it, she finds it less and less unpleasant. There is something incredible about it.

It is yet another new feeling Clarke has elicited out of her.

And that is very curious indeed.


End file.
